


Pieties

by sonno a caccia (retronxnt)



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Men Crying, No Romance, sad boy hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 09:13:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21335806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retronxnt/pseuds/sonno%20a%20caccia
Summary: Doc (Gustave Kateb) confronts Lion (Olivier Flament) about his actions during the West Africa Ebola Epidemic Hotwash in 2015.Not a ship fic. Doc stans probably aren't going to like this.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Pieties

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of the oldest Siege fanfics I have written so there's some syntax errors.

Olivier sat in the tent with his face buried in his hands. Less than twenty minutes ago had the news surfaced that several of the medical personnel stationed here were killed in a "quarantine-related incident." He'd read the crumbled report (now laying limply on the ground beside his feet) at least a dozen times. He knew full well what it meant. He also knew full well that any second one of his superiors would stomp through the doorway and treat him like the dust he felt he was.

A bit to his surprise - though not really entirely - it was Gustave who charged in the room. His face was a mess of emotion, but Olivier felt anger was the one arising.  
With heavy breathing he began, lowly,  
"Olivier, what the hell was that?"

Already unsure of how this conversation would go, he clasped his hands down and glared at the doctor standing over him. Kateb didn't give him much time to respond.  
"This report -" he knelt down and snatched it off the floor, "- you've read it, right? You know what I know, you know what everyone else now knows. Right?"  
"Yes," he mumbled, disdainfully. Gustave threw it back on the ground. He struggled for words for a moment.  
"Then what do you have to say for yourself?"  
"I was following protocol."  
"Protocol-"  
"The quarantine protocol I've been trained with for years."  
"Who gives a damn about the protocol?! If that's your excuse, then what is it for the several men and women who can't have one for themselves?"

Olivier's eyes watered. He didn't have a single thing he could say for them. Images of their faces and names hummed in his mind. Was it really his fault? There were dozens of other staff who carried out the protocols and regulations as well. Some of them helped him with it. Why was it his name that suddenly carried the weight of their deaths? Why was it his hands that were doused in their blood? Gustave impatiently waited for an answer, and quickly turned around, rubbing his forehead.

"He was my friend," the doctor mumbled. Olivier looked up at him again. He couldn't find the strength to ask who. "We've been through every epidemic I can think of. We've always survived. Until now."  
He turned back around to face the younger soldier.  
"You don't understand how it feels to think why you're still alive and he isn't. And you don't understand how it feels to think you could have done something to stop it!"  
He threw his arms up with dismay, making Olivier jump. Despite being immersed in his own mind and his miserable thoughts, he felt a twinge of vexation that Gustave assumed he didn't too feel like he shouldn't have survived. As if he didn't realize he could have stopped it. He had his reasons, but was afraid to voice them. If anything, hundreds of more lives would have been lost if he hadn't chosen this path. He felt lucky he chose the right one quickly enough, but sacrifices were made. It just so happened that one of these sacrifices was a personal one.

"I do. I've made mistakes before, Gustave, but I don't know if this is really one of them-"  
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he raised his voice.  
"You're not thinking about the bigger picture. We are here to save innocent lives from the epidemic. If I hadn't done what I did, hundreds of those lives would be lost," he tried to explain, standing up.  
"Are you trying to tell me our colleagues deserved it?"  
"What? No!"  
"Then what are you saying? Are you saying that we couldn't have saved all of them?"  
"Yes! We can't save everyone! We can only try to help as many as possible-"  
"YOU aren't thinking about the bigger picture! The picture where every single one is alive. You only care about the number, is that it? You only care about doing your job and following the damn rules!"

Olivier's face grew red with pique. For nearly all his life he believed that rules were meant to be broken, that rebellion was the true use of intelligence. He lived his youth as a disgrace and a dissenter. He fought his inner dissidence to try and keep his job and his life together, and now some pious highbrow is trying to tell him what he is and isn't. The one day he decides regulations were above personal pity, the one time he tries to follow the authority that isn't himself-  
He froze completely.  
He knew if he tried to say a single thing, it would be vile and hateful. He worked so hard to keep his inner slight to himself and he couldn't let it out now. Fighting the doctor would only make things worse, as if it could get any more so. Gustave huffed.

"Can't take personal critique, then? It's not my place anyway. If you don't think that your job is making sure everyone comes back alive, then maybe you should stay off the field. I'm going to make sure Rainbow puts you back forthwith- it should give you some time to reflect," he spat. He threw open the door and walked away without a second thought.

Olivier crumbled onto the seat again, feeling hot tears roll down his cheeks. He'd already had too much time to reflect. If he reflected anymore, he had a feeling he'd slip out of his rank again.  
He scrambled for a good word in his heart. He knew that suffering and trial came to those who wanted what was right. But did he really want what was right? He couldn't help but take personally every word Gustave screamed.  
He immediately prayed for forgiveness. Despite what Bertrand continued to teach him, that forgiveness is always in the heart of God, he knew there was none in Gustave's.  
And that there would never be for some time.


End file.
